VS2 Episode 12 When You're Gone
by MLVS Team
Summary: Episode twelve of Moonlight Virtual Season 2. Episode by mx wwmickd with the collaboration of the group .
1. Chapter 1

**Moonlight – Virtual Season 2****  
****Episode Twelve – When You're Gone **  
Rating: M/NC17

**Writer: Mx wwmickd (with the collaboration of the group) **

Beta'd: Writers Group

**VS2 Writers Group includes**** Candomom, ClChen, Conni4, Evilous, Misfit, Mx wwmickd, Night Owl, Phantom Phoenix, Photosue and Sunny.  
****Welcome to our new member CONNI4!**

Disclaimer: Moonlight and its characters are owned by CBS and Warner Brothers. All use of Moonlight and its characters in this venue are for entertainment purposes and completed solely for the pleasure of Moonlight lovers. The original storylines and episodes have been created by the VS2 Writers and Discussion Group. We hope you enjoy.

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Prologue

The flight only lasted two hours. They had landed in Sacramento and Beth felt a little woozy from tossing back tequila shots with Oscar. _Damn those vampires and their high tolerance for alcohol_… if she thought about the history lesson that Oscar had drilled into her, _under the influence,_ it made her head hurt even more. Oscar rushed her off the plane and through the terminal, giving her no time to grab her bag.

"No, Oscar! I understand I have to disappear but I'm not walking off this plane with nothing."

"Fine!" Oscar dumped the contents of her bag on the floor of the plane, "No ID, no credit cards, no phone!"

"Bastard," Beth mumbled. The edges of Oscar's mouth twitched… _she's pissed, good._

Beth grabbed the necessary things, stripped her wallet of cash and raked her hand through what remained, her eyes catching the glitter of cheap metal. A cross between a laugh and a cry caught in her throat… it was the gumball ring Mick gave her when they posed as a married couple. Beth had forgotten that it was loose in the bottom of her purse.

"Oscar wait!" He grabbed her elbow to forcefully guide her off the plane.

"We don't have time!" he spoke through gritted teeth.

"I get it!" Beth snatched up the ring off the floor and stuffed it in her pocket with the cash. "Here, you get to hold the tampons and the tooth brush… these jeans are too tight." Oscar growled…

Inside the small terminal Oscar called for a taxi and waited impatiently for it to arrive; ordering Beth to stay away from any window. At night humans as well as vamps could see easily into the terminal building. Kostan had made leaving LA too easy. The jet would make other stops up the coast. Confusing any trail that would connect them to Kostan was imperative. Oscar muttered curses under his breath; Kostan had to be free to deal with those aristocratic bloodsuckers and self-righteous puritans

Oscar hailed a taxi and barked "Fulton Blvd." as he pushed Beth in to the back seat. To her, it looked as if they had landed in the industrial area, identical warehouses and hangers lined equally identical streets. When the cab had reached its destination, "You pay," Oscar said brusquely.

"Way to show a lady a good time," mumbled Beth as she pulled crumpled bills out of her pocket. "You're lucky I have enough." Oscar slid on a pair of sunglasses, even though it was night, lifting his eyebrows in a way that suggested "luck" had nothing to do with it.

They were standing on a street, with what seemed like miles of car dealerships. GM, Ford, Nissan, VW, BMW, all sparkling with new cars, certified used cars and shiny salesmen.

"Are we going to buy a car?" she couldn't help but smile, "hope you have some cash… because that took all I had…"

Oscar nodded and began to walk down the street taking long strides. She had to run to catch up to him.

"Can I pick it out?"

Oscar laughed, "as long as you pick out the one I say." They passed the BMW's, the Audi's, even the Nissan dealership, before they stopped at the edge of the lot, "Fred's Deals, Cash for any Car." Oscar nodded at a faded burgundy Crown Victoria. "That's the one you want… honey, go check it out."

Fred was sitting outside the portable office, smoking a cigarette; shirt unbuttoned revealing a large gold chain in salt and pepper chest hairs. The blinking lights chased each other in the sparkly reflections of Fred's generous sun glasses.

He was portly man that stood about three inches shorter than Beth who smiled wide. His 'I'm your friend" smile flashed and he flicked his smoke like a Los Vegas tough guy. The cars were all decorated with cheesy slogans of "Like New" and "Hot Deal" on tags clipped to their windshields.

They men shook hands and Oscar led Fred over to a formerly silver 95' El Dorado, the tag stated "Fully Loaded." Beth rolled her eyes and wondered _Would you describe that color as 'tarnished?" and what exactly it was full of. _Oscar haggled with Fred over the price, while Beth kicked the loose gravel and leaned against the burgundy Crown Victoria. When it seemed like the deal was going the wrong way for her protector, he stormed over to her, the little salesman ran behind him to catch up.

"Hey, let's talk about this…" he was doing his best to sound innocent.

"I told you my price. But if my wife wants this car, then it doesn't matter. How much for this one?" Oscar wrapped his arm around Beth's waist; she stiffened a little and then tried to relax as he pulled her closer. _Wife? _

Oscar turned to face Beth, uncomfortably close, "Honey, how's the trunk space in this one?"

"Oh, ah, it's …really good." _He really needed to give her more notice before they started to role-play. _

"Let me see what I can do for you…" Fred began to haggle with Oscar and Beth excused herself from the grips of her "husband" before any more she had to endure any more cuddling.

It was a strange test drive, Fred casually handed them the keys and Oscar insisted that she drive. Thank god, the thing had an electric seat with a wide range of adjustments or Beth wouldn't be able to see over the hood. It handled like a boat. While Beth cruised down the strip of auto dealerships Oscar pulled the liner out of the glove box and reached in to get a bundle of money. The car swayed as Beth glanced over.

"Keep your eyes on the road honey…"

Fred was beaming when they returned and Oscar told him he had a deal, "Yes-sirree-Bob this car will pay for itself in no time."

Before long, Oscar and Beth found themselves driving on the freeway, heading south on the interstate. Back tracking was how you lost a tail, he explained. They would try to stay in the states, but could find themselves in Brazil if things got too hot. She was instructed to never talk to strangers, never leave his side and never ever, under any circumstances, contact Mick or Josef.

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Los Angeles

Beth is gone… I know that now… with every sense, the apartment is empty. I've put her things away, out of sight; I can't look at them when I'm hungry. I can't remember being hungrier a long time.

I haven't left my apartment since Josef returned me to my freezer. Must have been a hell of a concussion to knock me out… something that would kill a human. I find myself rubbing the bump on my head… superstition, luck maybe… Josef's attempt to knock sense into me. Josef is pissed and I don't know anything. I can't smell her at my place, I can't feel her blood in my veins… she fed me… If I can't taste her any more, I don't want anything else. I spend nights on the balcony watching smelling, watching a city where humans and their beating hearts… I rub my eyes… maybe I _can _see them as food… it would make things easier.

Food or the enemy…

It's time to leave…

There is enough blood for a fix, the slight smell makes my jaws ache and my eyesight sharpen… Fixing is only a shadow of feeding fresh… it's a shadow I want.

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"Mick! I was beginning to think my A+ had gone flat. That you'd deserted me… or abandoned LA." Guillermo's smile is wide but his eyes are cold. The lights cast everything with a pale green sheen, edges flicker and I have an appetite to sort the flavors and age of death and blood that hang in the morgue with the smell of antiseptic.

"What, so business is that slow? I thought you had a waiting list three pages long."

"It could be eight pages long, but Terrance won't make deliveries, 'Let the food come to us,' he says."

"So what spooked him?" I'm pulling open drawers sniffing, "anyone we know, show up lately."

"I'd tell you if we had any mutual acquaintances in the morgue." He gives me the look… _stop touching my stuff_… "According to Terrance vamps aren't answering for their delivery, they're leaving crappy tips, he says, that he feels… underappreciated." Guillermo says with a flash of silver eyes.

"He's reading too many of those women's magazines in the waiting room… do you have magazines in this place?" I ask, as if it's a serious question. "No one tells me anything…" I close the drawer on a shooting victim B+, a fresh one… literally. Didn't know what hit him.

"No, we haven't seen any vamps at the morgue since the arson-bombing… you were here… sorting."

"Yeah… what did Carmen finally have to say?"

"She was pissed, it was a Legion crime… one that will go down in the books as unsolved. She comes by every night… while I don't mind the view…" we both understand… Carmen and Josef are keeping the information close.

"So, Guillermo, what are you going to do, settle down for a siege?"

"Mick, if I don't deliver, people will be hungry… and that's not good for the community either…

.......

"Kevlar vest?" I hold it out to Guillermo in a take it or leave it gesture.

"Are you really going to ride shotgun." He takes the vest.

"Yep," I give him my best fanged smile.

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Guillermo's Ford Taurus is anonymous, the shocks are gone and the steering is sloppy. We've got an intermittent tail. "Let's stop at the drive through car wash?"

"What's the next stop… the mini-mart for a blood red slushie?"

"Either a car wash shorts out the GPS locator on this thing or we have to look for the bug."

Guillermo curses, "You think they've been tracking Terrance?"

"Probably, but Terrance didn't have a second set of eyes to watch for a tail… they are pretty good." The pink and green foam coats the car like melted sherbet and smells of some undead chemical that will outlast vamps and humans. "Your customers will need to mix up delivery locations from now on."

The flashing lights of the car wash reflect in Guillermo's vampire eyes like the carnival of the damned, "I do this so no one has to die to feed us… Now I'm worried that I will have blood on my hands." I hear the triple meaning, past, present and future as the car bumps out of the car wash.

We've lost our tail, but we aren't finding Guillermo's customers… apartments abandoned or sanitized to the point that no scent remains, human or vamp… the cleaners have been there. Finally we meet some old clients, paranoid vamps who've been around and routinely switch up their dining habits.

Gloria, who still enjoys a henna rinse, a bee-hive hairdo and enough gold jewelry to make the term "bling," dismissive, meets us behind an illegal card parlor. "I'd complain about my cards getting cold, but I only play with humans I know these days. I have to let them win. Someone brought a 'friend' to my other place and I shut it down. Can't be too careful, turned out it was his ex-brother-in-law in town on a convention." She looks us over carefully studying us with all her senses, "Have you two ever been through something like this before?"

We shake our heads having fallen into defensive positions on either side of the alley.

"How old are you and what do you know?" I ask gruffly. Guillermo gives me a look that says _mind your manners_ _._

Gloria just chuckles, "Boys, I'm old enough to give you advice." She drops the butt of her expensive foreign cigarette to the ground and grinds it out with the toe of her emerald green cowboy boots. "You can't run… but you can hide. Cities are the best place to hide and eventually the Legion just moves on. Sometimes things get out of hand, like the French Revolution… but those bastards had it coming." She lights another cigarette.

I want to ask about Beth but that's as good as handing her a calling card. "What do they want in LA?"

"The same thing they always want… to reduce our numbers and remind us they hold the leash." She shakes her head like we're a couple of kids who aren't very bright. "Vamps have always worked for governments as spies and secret police. They need us, but they don't like us or trust us. We live too long and learn too many secrets. Why LA? Could be our number was up. Could be they don't like Kostan, he doesn't work for them or that Duvall _putana's_ experiments. Who knows, they're here now." She pats Guillermo's arm before she turns to leave as she picks up the cooler she says, "You do a good thing, Guillermo. Hunting is _passé."_ She glances at me with the last comment. "I've got humans who will feed me… but this lets me keep business strictly business."

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The next stop is death all around, six humans and one vamp, beheaded, in a stucco bungalow. Things are starting to stink; I wonder what the neighbors heard, as I call for clean-up.

A single cleaner shows up wearing her civilian clothes, black jeans and tight T-shirt. She's driving her private vehicle, a black Toyota pickup truck windows darkly tinted. It must be a busy night.

"Fuck!" Is all she has to say when we let her in to the house, "Call Carmen. We're going to have to tent this one as a bug extermination; god-damn overtime daylight hours."

…..

Carmen arrives in twenty minutes a scowl firmly in place. We all know what happened we can smell the confusion and violence, humans used as cannon fodder until shear numbers overwhelmed the vamp. "Why are you here St. John? Get tired of pining over your human," she snarks at me.

I've been avoiding the mention of Beth all evening. It wouldn't matter who mentioned her… but to hear the sarcasm, distain for "_my human_ ". I look at Carmen with a predatory focus, growling. Guillermo moves, I can see him at the edge of my vision… getting out of the way of a fight. It distracts me… the sound of a zipper, one human bagged for processing.

"Carmen," I growl before I look away. She looks pissed, but I can tell… _Smell? Predator's vision?_… more than that, she looks sad. She ignores me to talk with the cleaner and then strides past to help Guillermo bag the bodies.

Whipping her ponytail back over her shoulder she looks back at me with a scowl, "What's a matter Mick? Did I hit a nerve?"

"Back off." _…she's an obstacle… part of Josef's secrecy… where is Beth…_ disgust when she looks at me… I would attack her for answers… if she had them. I pull myself back from the edge, my voice barely civil. "I want answers same as the rest of us."

"Really? Well here some answers. We are in the middle of a culling and the Duvalls are making a power play within the vampire nation."

I stand there listening to her spout off things I already know, the need to hunt growing inside of me, the smell of old rotting blood fills the house… I should feed. "I'm aware of all that Carmen. Why are you so worried about my motivations anyway?" I eye her suspiciously. For just a moment I see her tough girl mask drop.

"Because Mick, your recklessness puts those I care about in the line of fire," she sighs and goes back to bagging the bodies.

"And just who would that be," I fling back at her. "I thought your career was all you cared about." I want someone else to hurt like I hurt right now. She zips the last body bag lifting it over her shoulder. She turns back to me and speaks just one name. "Oscar, he's worth two of you." And with that she leaves.

Guillermo drops me off at my place; Carmen has called him back in to process the human dead. "Tomorrow night?"

"Yeah, glad to…" I sigh involuntarily as I open the passenger door it's like the loneliness washes back in with the LA air. I stand up… and freeze… an empty landscape… I only live here.

"Mick," he leans over to look up at me. "Drink something; I'll let you know what we find out.

"Thanks, man."

….

The rising sun sends sunlight raking across my apartment, dust making each ray sparkle… no one lives here. _Drink something…_ A glass, pouring a drink, sipping… these are human gestures that I've shed without Beth around me.

I fix… new/old blood in my veins makes the trip to my brain… I replay impressions of the fight with humans that took a vamp down… what, sometime last week… and imagine fresh blood as my face shifts.

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_Is that all?_ Ben Talbot wonders, _Beth Turner calls in sick and then just stops coming to work. No more threats, no more mysterious phone calls_. He should have filed a missing persons report, but that would only lead to vampires. Vampires who Beth maintained she trusted and even loved. Talbot felt the tension growing in his neck and jaw at the thought of another day of pretense, that Beth was just another investigator beneath the notice of ADA Ben Talbot.

Arriving at work, his assistant lets him know that lawyers for the defense in the environmental cleanup fraud case called to set up a meeting. The discovery evidence was pretty damning… _Lunch today… he'd have to cancel with Jackie._

"Ok, Dakota, go ahead and set that up. I'll handle rescheduling my afternoon appointments." Ben still gets a case of nerves when he calls Jackie, they've had a few more dates and her daughter no longer calls him a loser, at least to his face. "Hey, Jackie… or, should I say, ADA Benavides?"

"_What's up, Ben"_ Talbot imagines he can hear the smile in her voice.

"I've got to ask for a rain check. A lunch meeting just got scheduled in the clean up and containment fraud case."

"_How about this weekend Ben, Gracia's with her dad and I don't have a curfew."_

Ben is sure that Jackie can hear the smile in his voice, "That would be great, let's talk tonight about plans."

"_Talk to you later then."_

_....._

_Beth Turner,__ where is she_… Ben finds himself thinking about her as he rides up in the elevator. He should be thinking about the case but it's moments like this that his conscience bothers him; his conscience and the anger which seethes just below the surface at the possibility of another unpunished vampire crime. Would St. John come to him if Beth's disappearance was connected to the mysterious phone calls? What else could he do? It wasn't right to let this drop.

He is shown into the conference room to meet the corporate lawyer, Hank, a middle aged man with a degree in chemical engineering and the long time legal representative of the chemical company. A civil handshake; the professional courtesy that lawyers extend to each other regardless of the adversarial relationship in the courtroom.

"Thanks for coming, Ben. I've finally convinced the board we can't win this one even though a settlement would have driven the company into bankruptcy."

Talbot frowned, "What changed, the old man was going to fight this all the way, the good name of the family and so on."

The lawyer shrugged, "A bio-hazard disposal company bought a controlling interest and they have contacts at the CDC. It's an infusion of new capital and all they wanted was that we settle this case. It's an offer we can't refuse." The door to the conference room opens to admit a petite middle aged woman with dark hair piled elegantly and loosely atop her head.

"Hello," she says in a low voice…_it's like phone sex_ , holding out her hand. "I'm Myra, Hank's new assistant."

"Ben Talbot," Holding her offered hand a moment to long, Ben finds himself staring at Myra's body, squeezed into clothing a size too small… A Dolly Parton vision for a 12 year old boy. Hank seems oblivious to her charms as he leafs through the papers in his brief case.

….

How did Myra end up sitting between them, passing papers… _settlement terms… details he can't keep straight…_ When Hank leaves the room her hand is on his thigh… moving up… _breathe, Ben… _His clothes are too tight… the room is too hot…

"What do you think of these terms, Ben?" Myra asks. There is an edge of authority in her voice. _She's just an assistant?_

Talbot knows he can't make any kind of rational decision as he pushes this chair back from the conference table and away from Myra. "I'll have to take it back to the DA for review."

She smiles at him, a mild smile… at odds with her recent advances as she pushes reading glasses up on her nose. Talbot wonders, _What was I thinking_ _. _Myra appears pretty but ordinary, in her middle to late forties. So what if she wears her clothes too tight. "Some of the new board members would like to meet with you before you leave."

"Sure," Ben stands and reaches up to adjust his tie, which is choking him. He wants some control in this situation. The door opens at the end of the room to admit two men, ordinary haircuts, everyday suits who slide easily into a couple of chairs at the conference table.

"Mr. Talbot, you have already spoken to some of our other colleagues, or rather they spoke to you. We regret they weren't entirely clear about what we needed from you, the current whereabouts of Beth Turner."

Without the safe distance of a phone call between them, these men seem much more threatening for all their bland appearance. "We've noticed that Beth Turner has left LA, we want to know where she is."

"Y'know, for all the mysterious phone calls no one has ever given me a compelling reason why I should join your little… anti-vampire League. Sure the vampires I've met aren't my favorite people but I have a hard time imagining businessmen hunting down peasants."

"Ben, do you think all vampires are tame like Mick St. John?"

"Actually, I don't, they are beyond the law and I have no evidence that they police themselves. The human justice system keeps me more than busy."

"We police them."

"How do you do that? Acts of terrorism? Who are you?"

"The wildlife management branch of the CDC."

"What!"

"When there is an imbalance of predators we decrease their numbers."

"Well, happy hunting." Ben turns as if to leave only to find himself yanked back and then held up against the wall by Myra, who examines him with a fanged smile and reflective eyes. Her tongue flicks against her teeth and Talbot is mesmerized and aroused.

"Myra works for us. We thought you should see what little chance a human has to resist a vampire. Sex, blood, your life… whatever Myra wants you'd give it to her gladly."

She's barely 5'3" in heels but somehow she runs a cool tongue along his neck, yanking his shirt open, buttons popping… she bites him above his nipple, bringing him to the edge of an orgasm, and then lets him go. Ben is breathless and uncomfortable, but he leans after her. She indulges him with a quick lick… that leaves him grateful and ready to follow her.

"Find out where Beth Turner is or kiss your free will goodbye, Ben." With that the three of them leave the room, "We'll be seeing you soon… you can't refuse meeting with us now that we have business with the city."

[url=.com/watch?v=pOwoG0dFqko&feature=related] Ache [/url]

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It's a dull gray afternoon with high maritime clouds damping down the daylight; hunger has pulled me out of my freezer early and pushed my human face aside. It's still hours until I meet Guillermo. I consider a glass of blood; a hunter's edge doesn't serve me now. _So what St. John, you bite Beth, feed on her and now you're a picky eater… damn right I am…_ I get the kit out and promise myself that I will inject enough blood that I can think straight…

The intercom buzzes and the video turns on. It's Talbot. _With a vamp? I don't see anyone in the picture. _I let him in… there's the smell of vamp all over him. It's mixed in with the scent of his own blood. _Someone has marked him._

"Come in Talbot, you look like hell."

"You don't look like much yourself."

My eyes are still bloodshot and my pale skin would tell any vamp I'm not feeding enough… I laugh in spite of myself. I sound like an asthmatic dog.

"Need a drink?" I search out an unopened bottle of scotch as Talbot finds his way to the couch; _I've been negligent…if I still have a full bottle… or I stopped at the liquor store. I can't remember. _"Ice?"

"It doesn't matter." I bring the bottle and two glasses and find him staring at the needle and vials of blood on the coffee table.

"So what happened to you, Talbot, or rather who…" Talbot's giving me a look, I can't tell if it's because I left the needle and the blood out or if it is the wary uncomfortable look you see in the locker room. I hitch my pajama bottoms up and collect my breakfast. "Start without me… I'm going to get dressed."

….

"Here's a shirt, Talbot." I toss a white shirt on the couch beside him, starched and folded from the laundry. I wore it when I was human.

"Can you all do it? Yank us "humans" around like we don't have a will and make us like it." Talbot glares at me over his glass. "Vampires…" he says it like it's a disease. "You look completely human now, although not exactly the sun worshiper…"

"We have to eat," I shrug. "I don't know, Ben; we can all charm our prey to some extent. You have to practice and you have to like that sort of thing… I don't. My ex-wife on the other hand likes to play with her food."

"They… these vampire hunters… want me to find out where Beth is."

"And you came to me?"

"Where else would I come? I'm angry, St. John, I gave you the benefit of the doubt because of Beth. After I knew about vampires, I asked her about my parents and she didn't dismiss it or pretend it was anything except a horrible crime. She hinted that you killed the girlfriend."

_I did… and Tejada… and I turned Emma over to the cleaners…_ "Beth was kidnapped by my ex-wife when she was four… I tried to kill my ex-wife too, unfortunately that didn't work out. I know this doesn't help, but it is considered negligent carelessness to kill your dinner and a dinner date is expected to be mutual."

"What do you people do when it's not mutual?"

"Not much… but if you kill your dinner, clean-up can cost thousands. If you can't pay you work off your debt… there is only one rule. No one knows about us and killing people is a good way to attract attention."

"Like Dominic Michaels?

"Yeah, well I helped take care of that one too… it was almost a deal breaker with Beth." I'm getting tired of this, Talbot's questions. The silence lets Talbot's memories catch up with him… "Whoever she was, really did a number on you, didn't she?"

"It's like porn and death… I can't stop thinking about her. It's like I would work for them just to see her again.

"It will fade. Get mad and stay mad… the only thing that let me break free of my wife was that kidnapping a child, any child was unforgivable. Think about your mother and how you feel… do you think she had any kind of free will?" Sure I walked into Coraline's open arms and maybe Talbot's mother did the same. I've got to get him pissed off. He looks at me… should I insult her memory or…

"She had to like it…"

"Of course she liked it. I liked it too until my wife turned me into a vampire on our wedding night. It doesn't mean I was willing."

I sort of get Talbot back on his own two feet; it takes a lot of scotch and my promise of vampire justice for his parents. His phone rings, a woman he cares about… he says he'll see her tomorrow… that helps too. He lies, his meeting this afternoon turned into drinks… too many. _He's thinking like a lawyer again. _The city should be happy with the settlement… that helps too.

"Look, Ben, let the Legion think you are working for them. It's the safest thing to do. Tell them I don't know where Beth is either… that's true."

"I can tell them you're drinking and talking too much… I learned more about vampires this evening…"

"So we're drinking buddies now?"

"The way things are going… I wouldn't say no to a drink, period."

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	2. Chapter 2

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"I can't believe I garaged this piece of shit," Guillermo grouses.

"Smells like some dogs enjoyed the comfort of the upholstery…"

"You Martha Stewart now, Mick, you got to watch out for that day time TV." I can feel my lips twist into a sort of smile. Talking trash keeps our minds off of last night's body count. "Eau de Cujo is preferable to Ocean Breeze or whatever the hell was flavoring the detergent at the car wash. One of the techs has a couple of Dobermans, I told her Terrance and I had a bet on which of our fine American cars would last the longest. I said I didn't trust him."

"What happens if one of the cars gets stolen?"

"Ain't happening, Mick, you know which car is stolen the least often?"

"You're going to tell me…"

"Ford Tauruses, Terrance's Buick LeSabre is on the list of undesirables too."

"No wonder the American car industry is in trouble, where to tonight?"

"Logan wants a delivery."

"Yeah, that would be good." I don't mention that we both need to see someone up, undead and moving around. "Logan lives in a bunker, you've considered the Legion probably knows where he lives." Guillermo tenses up at the possibility of meeting the Legion. "That's why I'm riding shotgun."

"I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing... watch yourself, Mick. You want answers but you need to be careful."

I listen. Guillermo can give me crap about dating a human girl but he likes Beth, someone who tells it like it is when there is a body on the autopsy table. I want to ask him what he thinks about Oscar when my phone rings with an unknown number.

"Mick," The breathless purr, Coraline!"

"What do you want?"

"To help." I glance at Guillermo, he's listening, good.

"Your kind of help always costs more than it's worth."

"Was human love all you remembered it to be?" I curse silently; she has always known how to get my attention. _Coraline knows that the cure is in play. Is it because the Duvall's are using it to get to Beth or does she have information about the Legion._ The silence builds across the connection; there is nothing I'm willing to let her have about me and Beth.

"Tomorrow, my place just after sunset," I hang up.

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My footsteps sound dull as I walk across the pool deck. The sound of leather soles is what I remember, confident steps. The night I met Coraline used to replay in vivid color. Now this place feels like a ruin, a black and white photo where I don't leave an image. Every surface is pristine and preserved, who said 'a house is a machine for living in?" The heartbeat of this place is as cold as a clockwork mechanism.

_This patio was once crowded with glamorous people and beautiful willing freshies. I watched Jack Kennedy flirt with Marilyn Monroe here and listened to George Hodel mock his son, who accused him of being the Black Dahlia killer. The guys in the Rat Pack came by one evening to take a look around and left twenty minutes later. We didn't miss them. _

All the glass doors are open around the house. LA air has moved in and taken up residence. Vamps are here. Who? How many? I can't tell. The smell of my fifty odd years that I've no longer been among the living announces me, as surely as I were a servant. I see no one.

The light abstract scratch of finger nails flickers along the ridge of my neck. My hair is raked back, the comforting, relaxing and reassuring touch of my sire, alliances that can be stretched but not broken. Coraline slides around in front of me. Close and even though my arms ache to wrap themselves around her, any reassurance I felt evaporates. She's in black dancer's clothes, a tight t-shirt, bare midriff and leggings. Barefoot.

"You look tired Mick." Touching my face, my lips, my neck… sliding her cold fingers beneath the collar of my shirt. "Sit down Mick." It's not a request.

Decay, the smell of age and the Duvalls wear it proudly, like expensive perfume. The smell of Coraline is intermingled with Lance's scent. He's keeping her physically close. There is frost on the seams of her knit top.

The chrome and leather chairs aren't meant to be comfortable. Like Coraline and this house… they're meant to be seen. I refuse a drink.

"You said you wanted to help." My voice sounds empty, unused, I've forgotten how to talk to Coraline. I can't remember love, desire or even the anger and my fight to reclaim some sense of control.

"Beth…" The word is uncertain, spoken like a whisper… her arms are braced against my forearms. I say nothing. Her dark eyes search mine. She is looking for comfort too, she's hollow, a puppet who winds herself up to seduce and please men. "You loved her as a human."

"You're the one who said that maybe love can't exist without mortality." I remind her that my entire relationship with Beth was the result of her actions. If she hadn't kidnapped Beth…" Someone is using the cure as a weapon."

"The cure is no longer in our hands, all we have is the little that you saw me return to Lance." _C'est_ _la_ _vie. _It's not just Lance and the frost of the freezer that clings to Coraline, it's France and fatalism.

"Sister, leave us." Lance, he surprises us both, maybe I'm not as free of Coraline as I imagined, we had vanished into a world where only the two of us existed. The command to her is like a blow, she straightens as if jerked. When Lance sits across from me he acts as if she is invisible. Her last look at me is pleading as she leaves the room.

"Brother…" The tone is conciliatory and mocking all at once. I'm impatient. "You can have the child, Elizabeth. My sister failed to protect her and keep her for the family.

_Beth, she's all I want… once it was Coraline. _

"It seems to me, that you don't want Beth… you want me." It's a meaningless wild card I throw there which causes Lance to jerk a minute amount. I don't know how to read him.

"You have watched over her since she was four… and they've taken her away from you… Michael. Do you want her?

"Do you?"

"Secrecy, it's all we have. New turns learn it or die… you learned it, in a way. What happens when we need to do more than hide? Humans feed us one way or the other… of course we protect the special ones."

"So Beth's special?"

"Even you, with your inadequate tastes can tell there is something exceptional in her blood." _Yeah, she loves me, that's what I taste… would it be the same with a captive caged Beth?"_

"Her blood doesn't belong to me or you." I stop myself before I say the word _slavery._

"Believe what you like… all we are asking of you, is to do is what you do anyway. Watch out for her."

"What else would I have to do for you?" Lance only smiles. I stand to leave, protesting, "It doesn't sound like we have a deal."

"Oh we will, Brother, we will."

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The moon is dark, not that you can tell on the night time streets of LA. The glare of the streetlights remind me of the frozen food aisle. _I need more sleep. I need more blood. _I pass a couple of "working girls," andI wonder what the Legion is doing about the amateur freshies? The ones at the bottom of the food chain, Leo's runaways and pimps who encourage trade in blood as well as sex. _Beth would be pissed… I've let myself get hungry enough to think about freshies… Think St. John… Lance wouldn't approach me if he had Beth… he'd just lock her up in some French Chateau and let the Legion kill vamps in here LA. …am I sure of that?_ _God! I miss you Beth… Think…_

I pull into the parking garage of Katherine Simmons' building. Josef had been able to spin her kidnapping by Ian Foster so that she didn't have to reinvent herself. _This time…_ I step of the elevator on her floor. She already knows I'm here, her security is first rate. I see her door open even before I'm two steps down the hall.

She smiles to see me and I think how easy Katherine is to look at, long black hair shining but the smile leaves her dark eyes. "Jesus, Mick, you look like hell." As I step into her apartment she starts in on me. "How long has it been since you've had a decent drink? I'm not talking about scotch.

I just smirk at her, "Nice to see you too Katherine."

She turns on her heel, earrings jangling and dark hair flowing behind her as she strides over to her hidden fridge. "Oh don't even try the St. John charm on me mister," she warns as she pulls out a large pitcher of blood. "Sit." Katherine indicates a stool next to the granite island in her modern kitchen. The place bright and white, with sleek classic lines. The light gray granite countertop of the island is bare except for a large cobalt vase of fresh tulips. I sit down and look over at her. I've known her too long enough to know not to cross her when she gets that look on her face. _She's annoyed as hell and…worried?_

Pouring a glass of blood she hands it to me. "Drink," she holds up her hands as I start to speak, "save it. I can tell by your obviously undead look of you that you've been feeding only minimally. And tell me," _I know better than to argue,_ "How long have you spent in your freezer in the past week?" As I finish the glass she pours me another.

"Maybe a couple of hours here and there," I confess. She rolls her eyes and sighs.

"Mick, you are you own worst enemy." After a few more glasses of blood, the fog that is covering my brain begins to clear.

Katherine notices. "You know why you feel better because that is fresh, not that bagged stuff you insist on drinking." I knew it was fresh. She speaks the truth, but drinking the bagged stuff… It could be how I punish myself. Drinking fresh just makes me feel too good after weeks of hunger.

She stops before my excuses even get to my lips. "Don't even….you don't have to feed directly from freshies to drink fresh and you know it," she counters my silent argument and folds her arms across her chest.

I just hold up my hands and admit defeat, she always could see right through me.

She just smiles. "Come on; let's go sit in the living room." I follow her and sit down hard, collapsing on her sofa. She sits at the other end and curls her legs underneath her body. Her posture reminds me that Beth does the same thing. _God, Beth_…. Katherine tilts her head and looks at me tenderly. "You are really messed up with her gone aren't you?"

I lean forward with elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. "Yeah…yeah I am."

She leans forward and runs her hand up and down my back. "So what can I do? You said you wanted to talk to me."

I sit up and lean back into the sofa. Looking over at her, "I need to know what you remember from when Ian Foster kidnapped you." I watch as a myriad of emotions flit across her face and just for a brief moment she lets her eyes flash silver.

"I'm sorry Katherine---"she holds up a hand. "Mick you forget how old I am. I've been through worse…this is just recent and I am still pissed. I refuse to leave LA, I won't be chased away." I nod my head in acknowledgement.

It takes better part of the night while she recounts all the events that surround her abduction. I let her talk, starvation and hunger let her remember in vivid detail. "I could see the same hunger in you Mick. They took me as I arrived for class at Hearst, anyone could have done it." She gives me an ironic smile, "We don't expect humans to randomly stake us in the hallway."

She was held for two weeks in a dark cell and given very little blood. She tells me how she became fixed every warm-blooded creature. She was able to over hear a few conversations between Ian and Daryl. It seems that Dean Foster used his daughter Kelli to get information on her and the other vamps working at Hearst.

"Do you think there are still other students at Hearst working for the Legion?"

"Professor Ellis's little 'study group,' put everyone one involved under academic scrutiny… Katherine actually smiles, "Vampires, can't stand the daylight of ethical review. I sat on the board. Most students were embarrassed or defiant about having sex with Ellis… a few might have been playing a deeper game. I'll send you my notes that I kept on each one, like a good vamp lie detector."

I get up to leave and she pulls me in for a hug and then pushes me back to look at me. "Take care of yourself Mick or you won't be able to fight the fight." She leans in and kisses my cheek. "I will call you when I get some more information on Kelli Foster, or the other students." I give her my best lop sided smile and mumble "Thank you…for everything."

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I try and tell myself that I was weak to accept a moment of Katherine's sympathy and her insistence that I drink fresh. Instead all I remember how willing Beth was… willing to believe in the man not the monster, I need her back so I can believe in me. I'm tired.

Dawn is only a few hours away. I make a blood drop for Logan, parking several blocks away. We keep the real deliveries random. A few brave vamps like Logan, who won't believe that he's brave, let us deliver to their homes. At least he allows Guillermo and me to set his booby traps as we leave. Mostly so we don't bet caught in an explosion of roofing nails. His other concession is to let us put up a map of LA on one of his walls. We're gradually narrowing possible Legion locations forcing them to try and tail Guillermo or Terrance, planting our own GPS tracking devices on a never ending series of rental cars.

"Can you believe it Mick, Kostan has a dress code." Logan is on his favorite rant, why he won't work directly for Josef anymore. "Who can enjoy a freshie when your feet hurt from wearing dress shoes… and he doesn't understand that the World of Warcraft is Global 24/7 and occasionally I have to lead a campaign. I owe it to the tribe."

"So are we getting any closer to locating the Legion?"

"Mick, you should come back to the World of Warcraft… I can sell you a character to make up for lost time… a night elf druid… seriously bad ass… help you get out some of that aggression."

"The Legion already is 'seriously bad ass,' Logan."

"Ok, ok… I was just saying, with Beth…. ah… out of town… you have more time." I glare at him, "It looks like there is something near the airport, something near Hearst College and something close to downtown.

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A quick stop at the morgue before the sun rises, I stand by the car debating whether to go in. Katherine made sure I drank; if I go in Guillermo will force a six pack on me… I've had enough sympathy and worry for one night. Then I see it, a figure in black at the edge of the building.

Whoever it is I'm on them, they escape from my almost grasp, scrambling up the side of the building. A vamp? Working for the legion? Starving? A quick look… no human eyes… I leap, another, I'm on them. _Coraline!_

On the roof of the morgue we fight, grapple and bite. When the sun comes up our reaction is automatic even though these early rays aren't bright enough to cause pain… we are creatures of the night… we push apart automatically.

"What are you doing here?" I growl.

"Looking for you," She hisses back… she has thrown a coat over the clothes she was sleeping in and she's still barefoot. "I left when you were talking to Lance."

"I'm not going to hide you from him. How long has it been Coraline, since you had to scratch out a survival? You're on you own."

"I have nothing, Mick. No family, no resources I don't even have you." Her voice is bitter. This isn't her usual pout, with her dark eyes looking up at you, helplessly, waiting to be rescued. She has her arms crossed across her body, she doesn't look at me just keeps her back to the sun.

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know Mick, Cynthia is in hiding and Lance knows every place I own in LA."

"Work for me." That's a first, my getting her attention. "Dean Foster, a paparazzo who worked for the Legion. He's dead. You're a photographer, find out who else he worked for, where his checks were sent. He was a blackmailer too, so who were his marks? Answers I can verify Coraline, if you don't have information don't bother to come back and see me." I hand her five 100 bills from my wallet. "We're done Coraline."

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It is 3am as Carmen steps off the elevator and walks toward Josef's office. Josef is standing at the bank of windows with his back to the door. "Glad you could work me into your busy schedule, Carmen."

Carmen rolls her eyes and takes a seat in front of his desk. "Anything for you, Mr. Kostan," Carmen snarks back with honey covered sarcasm.

Josef chuckles and turns away from the windows taking a seat behind his desk. He realizes just how tired Carmen looks. "I take it's been a rough week."

Carmen sighs and looks at her hands. "It's hard when he's not here," she confesses.

"Yes, I would imagine it is but you've been apart before." Carmen sat up straightening her shoulders, "Yeah we have"…. _and he'd be pissed if I started feeling sorry for myself. _

Sensing she wanted to change the subject Josef pressed on. "So what do you have for me?" Carmen explains the information she has uncovered on the club bombings_, _including the timeline and locations. "I am going to need information on all the freshies and investors in those clubs. I assume you have some contacts that can get that for me?"

Josef nods and heads for his wet bar pouring them both a drink. "I will have someone contact you with that information." Offering Carmen a glass he leans against the edge of his desk. "You've been working with the Cleaners." It's not a question just an acknowledgment that he is aware of her other connections. "We think the Legion is calling the Cleaners too. I try and process the scene as much as possible before it's cleaned. I ran into St. John and Guillermo at one… multiple human and a vampire victim. The humans were amateurs, recruited from various fight clubs here in LA. Tell me why is St. John working with Guillermo?"

Josef tosses back the rest of his drink and goes to the bar to get another. "I really don't know Carmen. He is giving me the silent treatment at the moment."

Carmen sets her glass on the desk and stands. "He looks like hell Josef," and with that she walks out of the office.

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	3. Chapter 3

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_Booze or blood?_ I look over Josef's den, all leather wood and sharp geometric angles, before one of many bottles of Johnny Walker calls my name. My hands shake and the control that I regained after Katherine forced me to feed has slowly waned. I had been methodically gaining information about the Legion and about The Cure.

_Regrets … I don't do regrets, but that's Josef's line._ Usually Josef and I work like a team in matters like this, brothers. But even brothers can have a falling out. I can't fight the need to blame him for taking my Beth… M_y Beth_ Knowing she is in danger with every nerve, muscle and drop of blood in my undead veins…it's a constant inner turmoil that I fight, _I'm losing_. I don't have time to sleep or feed, I've watched over her most of her life and now another is doing it for me.

"Hey, Josef, how about some Scotch?" Josef's voice mocks me, "Sure, Mick, I would love some… Your social skills are starting to falter, Mick, since the blonde's been gone… And by the looks of you, a few more things have been lost as well."

Hearing Josef's voice pulls me from my drowning thoughts. There is a mixture of sarcasm and concern in his words as he steps next to me, leaning against the bar on his elbows, Josef looks tired… old. "You're the third person to tell me that I look less than presentable. It's getting old."

I hand Josef a tumbler and pour out more than a few fingers, sloshing a little of the expensive amber onto the bar. Josef raises and pulls the bottle from my hand and sits it out of my reach. "I do what I do because I care, for the both of you. I don't want to see blon…"

Josef raises a hand in surrender as he sees my eyes change at his casual mention of… "Beth… I don't want to see you or Beth hurt… or dead. And damn it, Mick…" Josef straightens up, standing before me, eye to eye. "You swore to me once, never to get this bad. Now look at you. It's obvious that you aren't feeding, sleeping. How do you think Beth would feel if I tell her you're dead?"

I throw my head back and give a shallow laugh, feeling stinging tears. "So you get to talk to her and I don't." I'm done hiding my anger as I stare levelly back at Josef.

"Mick, it isn't like that… I don't talk to them… directly." Josef moves from the bar and stands before the expanse of the windows that over look the city, one hand shoved in a pocket as he slowly drinks his scotch. "How's the ex…"

"You've been following me." Josef only turns slightly, eyeing me, evaluating my trustworthiness.

"You working for them? Did we go from brothers to enemies?" My jaw begins to clench as I slowly walk toward him.

"Yeah, yeah, we're supposed to be brothers, and brothers talk to each other. And I've gotten more information from an ex brother-in-law than I have from the man that I consider means as much to me as Beth." My glass flies across the room, then my hands through my hair as the glass shatters against the wall.

Josef merely shakes his head at me, his usual dismissal at another of my temperamental outrages. He finishes his glass and walks back to the bar pouring himself another drink and a fresh glass for me. He shoves another glass into my hand and glares back at me.

"There are secrets that Lance and Coraline are still keeping… and yes, I keep secrets too. They keep you and Beth alive. You're moving in with me, after tonight… Scratch that, you stay tonight as well. Your ah… old room is still available, freezer's on." Josef sat his empty glass on the bar as he walked by me.

"You're not my sire, remember, Josef... I don't need a babysitter..." I slam the last of my scotch down and go for the half empty bottle, pouring it almost full, more than I should be drinking. I want to forget all my pain, but I'm finding the older I become, the more alcohol it takes.

"This isn't a request." I laugh at Josef's insistence.

"I'll stay... on one condition..." Josef closes his eyes and heaves a sigh waiting for me to speak. "Tell me everything about the cure and what the hell it has to do with Beth..."

Josef takes in a breath, considering, but not speaking, and then he shakes his head. "Not possible..." He leaves the bar and starts to walk out of the room.

"WHY?" I yell back at him.

"Mick... It's just not possible. So try not to kill yourself, brother." I watch Josef leave and for the second time tonight, my rage takes over and I throw my glass against the wall, growling. My breath comes in short pants, like I've run a mile as a human. I'm leaving… leaving Josef's bar… his home… wanting nothing more than to be alone.

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Ghetto by today's standards, that's where Dean Foster's little sneak away was hidden. I remember when this was a good neighborhood, like the one I grew up in. Two story California stucco bungalows with a family in every one. Close to downtown. The house looks unassuming from the outside, but as I walk in the back door.

I can see that it has been a hub of activity since Dean's untimely death. Recent mail has been opened, fresh food in the kitchen, and the place has been dusted. It's quiet, even for a vamp. I roam through the house; it's lightly furnished, and not livable by today's standards. There are no televisions in the house. Something else is also missing, the basement. A benefit to being someone who grew up in a house like this one, they still dug basements for houses back then.

I walk to the kitchen sink and turn on the hot water, then listen. A gentle fizz then pop from the pilot light gives away the location of the basement door. They put a pantry in to cover it up. I push on the back wall and it swings creaking loudly. Good thing I'm not trying to sneak up on anyone. The wood steps look like they've been repaired at least a dozen times as I descend. It's dark, but I can tell that they have expanded the original size of the basement. I wonder if it runs under the adjoining warehouse.

Turning on the light, it looks like a war room. What the hell have I just walked into? And why is nobody here? I walk around, most of the file cabinets are locked as well as the desks. Past a faux wall, I see a large picture of Beth and myself walking down the street. It almost feels like it was planted to lure me over. Her face is circled. A target. It pisses me off. More pictures of her are stacked in a corner. Walking out of the courthouse, sitting in the car with Oscar, and walking into _my_ building. I drop the stack for a newer one. She's covering me in the road after being shot with the cure.

Is that the angle of the shooter? I can't remember, my vision suddenly becomes blind rage when I see a picture of her and Oscar leaning against the ugliest Crown Victorian I've ever seen, wearing the same outfit she fled in. Fuck. My mind starts racing thinking ways to find her, to get in some kind of contact with her, warn them. The legion knows where she is. I wonder if we've all been played by Oscar or if the Legion is pulling our strings.

Every piece of furniture and electronic device begins to find its way into a broken heap of violent rage. The fragrance of a human scent floats in the air, stopping my selfish, destructive path. I kill the light, and wait for then at the base of the stairs. Two males, laughing in the kitchen, drinking. They open the pantry…

"Fuck, when is someone going to fix this damn door?"

"Bad enough we gotta share this place." The other scoffs.

"Wish they'd just grab that bitch and end this shit…" It's the last thing he'll ever say.

I hold his jaw in one hand his throat in the other, his warm blood pouring down my arm. The other guy stands in front of me, unable to move, or breathe. I drop the body and slowly stalk towards him. I hiss at him, daring him to run. The smell of the blood, my hunger, lack of sleep and seeing them with pictures of Beth, is tipping my scales towards a savageness I've never known, and I like it, not just revenge… retaliation.

"What do you know about Beth Turner?" My head juts forward, and tweaks sideways. Eyes narrow focused on my victim with fangs bared.

"Nothing man! She's not my assignment…" he's lying.

I'm behind him before he can even register I've moved. "Really?" I breath into his ear, "and you think you can lie to a vampire?" I grab him, pulling him tight to my chest, a vice grip. "Maybe I'll just pull you apart slowly, until you do know something…"

His breathing evens out, no longer afraid… "Man you can do whatever you want to me… It's not going to change the fact that we _own_ her…" I snake my free hand around to his back, digging my fingers around his spine, fleshing it out. Wrapping them around his second and third lumbar, a snap and his legs are like jelly. I hold him up, he's barely breathing from the pain, a sweat is glistening across his skin. I pull my fingers out and lick them.

"Now _I,_ _own_ you."

He's holding on to me, grasping at my forearm for support. I rake my nail across his throat, nicking the carotid; I won't give him the pleasure of a bite. The blood in the air is teasing my hunger and I can no longer hold back. I bend down and take a few drags off his artery, enough to satisfy, not to fill.

I'm soaked head to toe in blood. When the cleaner shows up she reminds me why they all wear leather, my clothes will have to be burned. Pieces of the two unlucky legion members can be found all over the kitchen and living room, the house trashed. She hands me a spare jumpsuit from her van. I walk to the back bathroom to hose off and change. I catch a few whispered comments referring to Ted Bundy. I know I've crossed a line when the cleaner is disturbed.

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The Crown Victoria continued it trek north and Beth was tired. Tired of driving, tired of the endless empty landscape, tired of the continuous stream of country music that blared from the speakers in the massive cracked vinyl dashboard. She thought briefly of changing the station… How many seconds would pass before Oscar was banging on the trunk lid from his ice-filled bed? At least the singers were doing all her crying for her, misery did love company.

The last time… she released a long sigh of resignation. I'll just keep my honky-tonk-badonka-donk away from a repeat of that butt chewing. "God, I'm even talking country now."

She turned the volume higher. The rest stop that Oscar had curtly designated as a stopping place was only a couple miles ahead. She could listen for that much longer…

The rest stop barely qualified for the term and Beth eased the car carefully over the rutted drive, rolling to a gradual stop beside a dilapidated picnic table in the flickering shade of a gaunt tree. Sweeping her gaze quickly over the area as Oscar had instructed repeatedly, she didn't see anything remotely threatening.

A little gas station, aptly named the Mini-Mart, bordered the rest stop and two teenage skater-boy wannabes were drifting in lazy circles on the dusty concrete pad that surrounded the two lonely gas pumps. Nothing looked threatening here. She shut off the engine, making sure to leave the ignition on to keep the radio playing. Oscar could go [url=.com/watch?v=iX0zfv8Ov5I]crazy with Patsy Cline[/url] and sleep a little longer... there's plenty of ice.… "But I need something to drink."

Practice had made shutting the door with no sound a habit and she hurried across the dirt and gravel lot. A quick stop in the ladies room, inside for a Coke and chips… she'd be in and out in five minutes, tops. Oscar would be proud. Yeah, right.

Beth pushed back through the heavy glass door, quite pleased with herself. In and out, less than five minutes, HA. I…? The Crown Victoria was gone. Beth turned in panic, looking to the gas pumps and then back toward the tree with its pitiful shade. The car… and Oscar… was gone.

"Shit!" She uttered the small curse and ran to circle the little station, hoping to find him scowling on the shady side of the building. Nothing. She swallowed the sickening fear that pushed into her throat. It was hard to think. Get hold of yourself, Turner. Okay, okay. Oscar hadn't covered this scenario in the tequila version of Vampire 101. She managed to take a deep breath; slowly turning to decide exactly where in California she was… she was going to have to call someone. Who exactly, she wasn't sure, but somebody.

The Crown Victoria rocketed back toward the freeway, Skater-boy #1 at the wheel, though he could barely see over the dash. They'd done it, they'd actually stolen a car. He glanced at his buddy, who was twisted in the seat, watching the Mini-mart shrink behind them. "You see her?"

"Nope." Skater-boy #2 sagged back, returning his grin. "We did it, dude. We stole a car!"

They were both almost vibrating with the rush and the car surged forward, leaving the Mini-mart far behind.

"Thank you." Beth smiled politely, trying to ignore the clerk's lack of hygiene and teeth for the second time. "Are you sure the pay phone works?"

"It worked this morning." The clerk shrugged, leaning her elbows and heavy breasts on the counter. "I can't give you your money back if it don't."

You're so helpful. Beth gave a tight smile and lifted the receiver. A dial tone, thank god. She entered the phone cards information and dialed the number quickly, praying that he was home as the phone began to ring. Please, please, please…

"Logan Griffin." Beth released the breath she'd been holding. "Logan? It's… it's Beth."

"Man, this thing drives like a boat." Skater-boy #1 was spinning the radio dial, running through the radio stations like so much static as his buddy tossed the bedding and clothes in the back seat. The radio finally found something to his liking and a heavy bass rap filled the car as he cranked the volume. "You find anything?"

Skater-boy #2 flopped back down in the seat, grinning. "Nothing I want to keep, but you might be interested in these." He dangled a pair of baby blue panties in his friends face. "You wanna smell?"

"Knock it off, you faggot!" Skater-boy #1 swatted the panties away and the car swayed, drifting off the road as they shoved at each other. Neither one saw the drainage ditch before they hit it and the car went airborne, bouncing them high before it slammed back down. They yelled in shock going up and in exhilaration as the Crown Victoria bounced back onto the road. Skater-boy #1 howled and pounded the steering wheel. "Dude, we should be on 'Jackass'! That was awesome!"

"Yeah." Skater-boy #2 laughed nervously, certain he'd just pissed himself. "That was so cool, I almost wanna do it again." His laughter faded as an insistent pounding started in the back of the car. "Dude, you hear that? I think we broke something."

Oscar was instantly awake as the car slammed back to the ground, his face smashing into the trunk lid, breaking his nose and opening a wide gash on his forehead. _"Scheisse!"_ The vampire roared and thrashed from the ice, turning to bring his feet to the back of the rear seat. Rap music echoed from the front of the car and he couldn't smell Beth. "Hölle!" Something was wrong, seriously wrong and he began to kick the seat from its moorings.

"Dude? Dude?" Skater-boy #2 turned, whining as the backseat began to move. "Dude, there's something trying to get out of the trunk!" His terror escalated as a pale, bloody hand appeared, shoving the seat forward and he shrilled like a little girl. "Stop the car, let me out! Let me out!" He didn't wait for the car to slow as the monster's face shoved into view, bloody with white eyes and fangs. He threw the door open and jumped seconds before his buddy did the same. They bounced and skidded down the highway, bloody and crying as the monster clawed his way to the drivers seat. Dude, he can have the car.

Oscar paid little attention to the ragdolls flopping in the road as he brought the car under control, scenting to figure out what had happened. Beth at the rest stop… Beth leaving the car… urchins climbing in… _"Scheißkerlen!"_ His growl was fierce as he swung the car through the median to head back south. Beth was alone.

"Beth?" Logan immediately paused Guitar Hero, not sure if he should smile or be worried. "Are you okay? Where are you?"

Beth answered both questions with a nervous laugh. "I think I'm okay but I don't know where I am." She hesitated before asking the question she had to ask. "Have you seen Mick?"

"Yeah, yeah." Logan sank into a chair, frowning as he lifted the guitar strap over his head. "Have you talked to him?"

"No." A single tear trickled down Beth's cheek. "I haven't talked to him since I left… it's not safe."

Logan thought quickly and grinned. "I can make it safe. Hang on." His fingers flew over the keyboard and a phone began to ring. "Hang on, Beth. Almost, almost..."

[url=.com/watch?v=Uyz5h2nhyCc]When You're Gone[/url]

"St. John." Mick's voice was gravely and he sounded so tired. Beth had never heard anything more beautiful. "Mick? It's me."

"Beth?" Mick lurched from the sofa, slinging scotch in an arc as he fell back. "Beth, is it really you?"

"Yeah, its me." Beth gushed, crying happily. "I miss you so much."

"How… where are you? Are you alright?" Mick blinked the sudden wetness from his eyes. "God, Beth. I've been so worried. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay." Beth leaned weakly against the plate glass, so relieved to hear his voice. Where she was didn't matter as long as he was okay and safe. "I miss you and I love you."

A soft smile touched Mick's face. "I love you, too." She sounded alright, in a weepy sort of way. "Is Oscar taking good care of you?"

"Um, yeah." Beth straightened as a car appeared in the distance, quickly moving in her direction. "Between Oscar and that big ugly car, I'm doing okay."

The car… The warning came rushing out. "The Legion knows about the car, Beth. You have to get rid of it. Tell Oscar to find something else."

"How…?" Beth recognized the Crown Victoria now and the angry vampire behind the wheel. Oscar slammed the car to a skidding stop right in front of the door and motioned for her to come. "Mick, I have to go. I love you, baby."

"Wait!" Mick didn't want her to go. "Beth, I love you!"

"I love you, too." Beth sniffed, trying to sound brave. "Take care of yourself and I'll see you soon. I gotta go, Oscar's waiting." She hung up before she lost her will and ran for the car. I want to go home.

Oscar was angry and… naked. She slammed the door, keeping her eyes averted as the car threw dust and gravel, peeling out of the deserted lot. "The Legion is on to us. They know about this car."

"Says who?" Oscar's frown deepened.

"Mick." Beth glanced over at him, keeping her eyes above his chest. "I called him."

"_Scheiße!"_ Oscar growled and she could see his fangs. "We'll have to find another car."

"That's what Mick said." Beth agreed and they settled into an uncomfortable silence, each thinking. It had been quite the afternoon and Beth tried not to smile as she looked out the window at nothing. "How was your nap?"

MLMLMLMLMLMLML


End file.
